Treasures from an old Friend,
by HeartlessLittleHamster
Summary: They forgot about a close friend, but got reminded thanks to his 'treasures'. Which they cherish in their heart. Asking themselves, how could they forget him?
1. Chapter 1

"_Bust a Move!"_

**Disclaimer: **I do own nothing, not even my name. I probably stole it from someone.

**Summary: **"Don't forget me!" They both shouted before on of them hopped on the train. But they would forget each other, not knowing that their biggest treasure would lose to the hands of time. They waved goodbye, seeing their ways parting for good.

**Treasures from an old Friend,**

Unexpected Treasures 

Alfred's eyes had been focused on the old treasure chest covered with dust in a corner of the old dusty attic for the past twenty minutes. He tried to remember why it was locked, almost turned into dust and why that part of the dusty attic where Matthew and he never looked or came, was its final resting place. Much like his old shed. If he didn't wore a watch, Alfred couldn't tell if time passed by; it was a Friday evening, Matthew had gone out for a walk and the few rays of moonlight didn't reveal much accept more dust than Alfred though was hanging in the atmosphere in his house.

Alfred rubbed his eyes and scratched his head. His blonde hair was still wet from the shower he took half an hour ago and the scent of Matthew's soap he had used still hung around him. He loved the smell of lavender. Just like Matthew; a reason to hug his brother more often.

He held the rusty lock in his hand, it was small. Like the ones used for keeping the secrets of a diary hidden and only to the writer visible. Others had to live with only knowing the cover. Maybe this chest was just like a dairy; who had the key, would know what was inside. Because he didn't own that particular key, he would never know what was so special to be locked away.

He yawned. The blonde couldn't recall why he went to the attic in the first place. As soon as he saw the chest in the corner, he was mesmerized by it and eager to know what was inside. Like a greedy pirate. His curiosity would win from anything, even hunger and sleep. Matthew often joked that his love for the spring would even lose to his curiosity. Alfred always laughed the hardest, knowing it was true.

Maybe it was time to give up; Alfred thought when he glanced at his watch. It was past eleven, meaning that Matthew could be home already and they could do something fun before it really was time to crash and sleep. Alfred loved spending time together, now that they lived under the same roof again.

A single glance on the chest before giving up, Alfred stood up and walked towards the stair on his bare feet. Inhaling the scent of lavender mixed with the scent of old stuff, he walked down stairs into the kitchen. Greeted by his brother, Alfred sat down on a kitchen chair reaching for an apple from the fruit bowl.

"How was your walk, Matthew? You were gone for a long time." Alfred bit his apple and leant beak. "It was nice. I went down the street, stopped by Marie's for a drink, ran into Peter and went back through the park. It was not too cold, so I didn't wear my jacket." Matthew paused to sniff and placed his mug of hot chocolate back on the table. "Do I smell lavender? Did you use my soap again Alfred?" A grin appeared on Alfred's face. "I couldn't resist. I just love the smell of lavender!"

x~

The big hand on his watch hit the 12 while the small one still hung at 4. Alfred had been up for almost an hour; the blonde couldn't sleep without knowing what was inside the treasure chest. Last night, Matthew and he talked a little bit before going to bed. Alfred had remembered why he went to the attic in the first place; Matthew wanted him to repair the light in the library because reading with a flashlight wasn't a thing his little brother liked.

Alfred promised he'd do it the next morning, but laying in bed, he couldn't sleep. The treasure chest was in his mind, in his dream. Damn curiosity.

Behind the treasure chest he had found a small box filled with keys. Dairy sized keys. The box was bulging of the keys that were the end of his sleepless night.

Alfred was sitting on the ground, only wearing his pyjama pants with a flashlight next to his foot and the box filled with keys. He was trying the last one he picked from the box. This had to be the one, the blonde thought a little tired. The box was almost empty, there were only three keys left but they didn't feel right.

Alfred turned and twisted the small key in the lock, pulled and hit the box. Dust flew from the cover of the chest and partly clung to his hand. He blew it away and glanced at the cover. A few words were shown underneath the thick layer of dust. They were golden and shimmered.

He bent his head to get a closer look and read the letters. _"Treasures from Friends"_. But the phrase on the cover reminded Alfred of nothing. For him it was just a simple sentence on a chest.He turned the key one more time, this time the cover sprang open; revealing all its secrets.

The treasure chest was filled with toys. A plush duck, a wooden boat made of an old clog, two pair of clogs hidden under the sail of the small boat, an ear belonging to another stuffed animal looking like a rabbit. The inside of the chest smelled like dried flowers, but not like lavender. The smell didn't ring a bell, didn't remind him of what he hoped. Nor did the stuff inside the chest.

Alfred's hand reached for the duck with the red scarf. It had only one eye, the other was replaced by a button. The thread that held the animal together came out through a hole in his wing, revealing that the stuffed animal was old.

The duck had covered a letter. Alfred opened the envelope and began to read the drawings on the blue paper;

'_Dear Alfred,_

_Today, my little sister and I met a man named Herman. He told us a story about a duck named Alfred. It made me thing about you. It was funny._

_My mum and I made a stuffed animal that looks like the duck.' _

A small drawing of a girl with a ribbon in her hair was drawn in the beginning of the line. _'Liked it and even the baby inside my Mum's stomach thought it looked nice. It kicked. I hope I get a little brother; I don't like little sisters anymore. You're lucky you only have a little brother; I maybe get two little sisters._

_The duck, Alfred J. Kwak is a present for your birthday. Kwak is a Dutch word for the sounds that ducks make. But you call it Quack, I guess. When we come over this summer, I'll tell you everything about the duck! I got a book from the man._

_See you next summer! Maybe than I can read the book and write my own letters, I only drew pictures so it looked like I made it all by myself.' _On the bottom of the letter was a boy drawn with brown hair, a scar on his face and orange clothes next to a girl with a green dress, a father with moustache and a mother with a swollen stomach. They were waving towards Alfred, who realized now who the writer of the letter was.

Alfred hugged the duck, inhaled its familiar smell that dragged up a memory.

**~Flashback~**

"Look Mummy! I got a stuffed duck; its name is Alfred too! It's from..." Little Alfred almost pushed the duck with the red scarf into his mother's hands so she could see it better, but she was talking to someone on the phone. "Not now Alfred. I'm talking to someone, which means I'm busy. Go show Matthew your new present." She gently pushed him into the direction of the kitchen, where Matthew was drawing a picture for his brother.

"Alfred, what's that? Was that the package from the mail? Did it come from that country across the ocean?" Matthew was excited, just as excited as Alfred had been before his mother didn't show much interest in his new birthday gift as he hoped she would. He was proud of it.

"Yup. The duck is called Alfred. Just like me!" Alfred threw the duck on the table and climbed on the chair next to his brother. "But you can't call him after you. That's stupid!" Matthew grabbed the wing of Alfred J, as well as his brother did and they pulled. Until the fabric from Alfred's wing ripped.

"Mum! Matthew broke my present! He ripped it and now it's broken! Matthew you're the stupidest brother someone can have!" Alfred cried, jumped from the chair and ran towards his mother, finding shelter in her arms. "Mummy, it's his fault! It's ripped!" Tears streamed over the blondes face, his small finger pointing towards the duck in Matthew's arms, who had tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry Alfred. I didn't do it on purpose."

"Alfred calm down. Mummy's going to fix your present. But first you have to listen to me; it about your friend coming over this summer." Alfred stopped crying – making little sobs- and his attention was focused on what his mum had to tell.

"I was talking to his mother on the phone. He and his sister can't come. Their dad's going to have an operation during their summer vacation; it's too expensive to get them over here. His mum told me that he was very sorry."

The news didn't brighten Alfred's day. To him, his birthday was ruined; his friend couldn't come this summer and his brother just ruined a birthday gift. The blonde sobbed. In the kitchen he pulled the duck away from his brother and held it tight. Stuffing escaped through the gap in the duck's wing, making it even sadder than the whole scene looked.

That part of the memory would always stay with Alfred; it was the first gift made by a friend, ruined by his brother.

**~ End Flashback ~**

Alfred could remember that he got a call that evening. Before he knew who the caller was, a story filled his ears. The story was about a duck named Alfred Jonathan Quack, who survived an accident with a car but lost his six brothers and sisters and his parents. He was all alone but found by a small mole who served as his father and raised him. Alfred learned new things about life and helped saving a princess from a mean crow named Dolf and when Alfred got older; he married a female duck and got two children. The story ended with 'And they lived happily ever after.'

Alfred forgave Matthew for the accident after hearing the story about Alfred and how lucky Alfred was to still have one sibling; they lived happily ever after too.

Alfred smiled with his eyes focused on the old stuffed animal. He felt sorry for forgetting his precious gift, for forgetting his friend.

That night, for the first time in many years, the stuffed Alfred J. Quack slept next to Alfred F. Jones in the same bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Bust a Move!"_

**Disclaimer: **I do own nothing, not even my name. I probably stole it from someone.

**Summary: **"Don't forget me!" They both shouted before on of them hopped on the train. But they would forget each other, not knowing that their biggest treasure would lose to the hands of time. They waved goodbye, seeing their ways parting for good.

x Thanks for Reviewing and the fave's. You make me smile =D

Refound Memories 

But Alfred didn't visit the attic after his reunion with his beloved plush duckling again. He remembered why he locked it away in the first place.

x

As the fridge door was closed, the kitchen was plunged into darkness. The figure stood perfectly still to allow his eyes to adjust. His glasses were still on his nightstand. Damn insomnia.

The blonde yawned and took a bite from his cookie; crumbles stuck to his cheek and fell on his feet. He shuffled towards the couch and sank lower in the soft furnishings. Matthew hated being awake, alone. Not even Pochi, Kiku Honda's beloved pet, was awake. Alfred and Matthew had to take care of the little dog while Honda was away for business. The dog slept during the day and was mostly awake at night.

Speaking about the puffball, Matthew hadn't seen him on his favourite sleep spot; under the cupboard next to the fireplace. Pochi had a strange feeling for comfort; sleeping in the dust collected under the cupboard, rather than the dog pillow Alfred found on the attic. Pochi simply refused to sleep on it and Matthew and Alfred just let the dog sleep wherever he wanted. "Pochi." He called the dog's name, as if it would help, Matthew laughed. The dog was too stubborn to listen.

"Pochi? Where are you?" Matthew didn't call for the dog to loudly; afraid his brother might wake up. Alfred hated being disturbed in his sleep. He would kill Matthew, just as Kiku if something happened to Pochi. Or Heracles.

From upstairs he heard a soft bark. Pochi had claimed the attic as his new territory. Great. What if the clumsy dog fell of the stairs? Damn. Why didn't Alfred tied Pochi up or put him in a cage? Yesterday the white dog escaped through a gap in the fence, played in the mud with the neighbour's dog and came back as a black, wet little piggy. It took hours to clean him and now he was on the dusty attic.

The whole dark attic was a haze to Matthew, with a hyperactive white spot moving around irritating, barking. "Stand still Pochi!" Matthew tried to grab the dog, without success. He really needed his glasses to catch that stupid Japanese dog. The blonde stumbled across some forgotten toy and struck his toe against the chest in the corner, making dust whirl around in the now dustier attic. "Blasted dog! Blasted chest!" He coughed and sat down on the creaking floor, holding his smallest toe. He bit on his lip and collapsed on the ground with closed eyes, he was getting tired of that stupid dog. Last time he offered help to Kiku Honda and his stupid dog.

Matthew opened his violet eyes again when he felt little furry paws on his bare stomach and a wet lick on his nose. That arrogant spoiled dog stood with his filthy paws on Matthew's fresh showered chest. Great.

As soon as the plan popped into his head, he acted quickly; grabbing the dog. Pochi barked loudly, squeaked and tried to wriggle loose from the arms of the blonde. A fight for freedom and rest. The dog won the fight and broke free, hiding behind the open chest – now both Matthew's enemies were on the same side. He was going to lose to a dog and a treasure chest.

Curiosity was a thing Matthew and Alfred shared. Alfred was more enthusiastic, became obsessed with the object - mesmerized was his word for it. Matthew wasn't anything like Alfred; their friends thought that was a good aspect of the difference between the two brothers. Just like Lovinoand Feliciano.

Just like Alfred, Matthew had fallen for the spell of the mysterious open chest with golden words on it, filled with forgotten toys from their childhood. The golden rusty lock shimmered in the vague moonlight and Matthew's bright violet coloured eyes. The small key was still in it and was unlocked, Alfred had beaten him.

To Matthew the chest smelled like flowers, tulips to be particularly. Dried tulips would last longer, and old friend had told him.

The smell and the things inside the chest filled Matthew's head with memories. Memories he loved cherished and of whom he cursed himself for locking them away. He missed those memories. His mind was focused on a small pair of clogs on top of all the other stuff. They were red, with a white maple leaf on it. Red and white, his favourite colours.

Matthew sniffed, sneezed and carefully he took the two hand sized wooden shoes to icemen them better. It were his, he could recall from the bottom. With shiny gold letters, his name was written down_. "Matthew"_. The blonde knew who the giver from the shoes was, why he got them and how much they mend to the Canadian. How much they still mean to Matthew.

**~ Flashback ~**

"We're here!" Little Alfred shouted enthusiastic, looking around for their friend and his sister. Little Matthew stood behind his older brother, a bit shy too meet his friend from across the ocean. He was nervous, he'd never met him but heard a lot from the letters his brother received.

"There you are! Alfred and his little brother Matthew!" A boy with spiky hair, a scar on his forehead and with a small blonde girl behind him, ran towards the two brothers with something in a paper bag.

"You have to put these on! Or else you'll sink away in the swamp when we go frog hunting!" Two pair of shoes. A blue one with stars and stripes and a red and white one with a maple leaf on it. The boy self was wearing orange clogs and his little sister had pink ones with hearts. "_Broer_, I don't want to go on frog hunt. They're slimy and stink!" The blonde girl complained and pulled her brother's soccer shirt.

"_Zusje_, just one more time! Matthew and Alfred are coming to and I want to show them the old mill on the hill!" And off they went, with a basket and a net.

They'd walked passed a strange field on their way to 'Frog-swamp'. The grass was a different shade of green, but it was attractive too frogs. A large brown one was sitting near the high grass. "Look Alfred! A frog, can we catch it?" Alfred nodded and Matthew ran over to the frog. "Wait Matthew! That's not grass!" the girl cried but it was too late; Matthew fell into the ditch.

"I can't swim!" Helplessly Matthew tried to reach for the branches from the willow above his head, but every time he held one in his hand, they broke. He took a ducking, swallowing dirty water and coughed fro air.

"I'll save you Matthew!" The boy jumped into the river, swimming towards the sinking Matthew and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, swim ashore and pulling him towards the safe and dry edge. Alfred grabbed him brother's cold hands and together with the little girl, he pulled him to safety.

"Matthew are you okay? I'm sorry! I didn't know it wasn't a river. It looked like grass. I'm sorry!" Alfred cried, hugging his brother. The boy sat down next to his sister with wet clothes. "Can the hero get a kiss from his little sister?" He laughed and received a kiss from the little girl.

"So Matthew and Alfred, you both can't swim? That's the first thing babies learn here. The first thing you'll learn when you get here again. We're going to teach the neighbour's kid how to swim too. I think his name is Ludwig. He's nice, a little weird though." The boy blathered, making his sister, Alfred and Matthew laugh – thinking it was too bad that they didn't catched the frog.

Matthew decided to learn to swim, just like Alfred and the strange kid Ludwig who was actually very nice. Matthew lost his glasses and his left clog, the right one was greasy and filthy. But as a goodbye gift, he received a new pair of glasses and a pair of new clogs.

The boy with the spiky brown hair became his friend, his first friend from across the sea. They started writing letters, his smelled like lavender while the ones from across the ocean smelled like tulips. To Matthew the best scent there was on the earth.

**~ End Flashback ~**

Matthew thought back of the joy he felt when writing those letters, reading them. He'd kept all those letters, read them again when it was storming outside and he had to stay inside. When their parents broke him, the box full of letters stayed in his father's house with Alfred while he moved away with his mothers – forgetting about the letters. Forgetting about his friend.

But now after years of absence, Matthew thought of blowing new life into the forgotten friendship. Hopefully the one across the ocean felt the same way.

Pochi had finally calmed down, sleeping next to Matthew's side – tickling Matthew with his puffy white fur. The pest was actually really cute; maybe that's why Kiku Honda loved the dog so much. It was his treasure, like the ones in the treasure chest. Precious to the holder, but useless to others.


	3. Chapter 3

"_Bust a Move!"_

**Disclaimer: **I do own nothing, not even the mention inflatable unicorn mentioned in the story below.

**Summary: **They forgot about a close friend, but got reminded thanks to his 'treasures'. Which they cherish in their heart. Asking themselves, how could they forget him?

The new chapter, that took me too much time. It's rather short, compared to the last two. I love writing Matthew's memories, because in this story he is more important in this story than Alfred. Matthew has a better friendship with the Netherlands than Alfred. Yes I said who it was. So quit reading this author note and start reading the story!

Enjoy!

**Treasures from an old Friend,**

Forgotten Stories

The less Alfred thought about the treasure chest, the more often the box filled with stuff was a resident in his head. Alfred J. Quack had moved from years of abandonment in a box on a dusty attic, to the messy bedroom of his owner – from the softness of his bed to the cities of dust underneath the mattress.

Tired of playing his videogames with a friend he met during his trip to Europe when he was barely graduated, because their communication over the internet was rubbish and his head was filled with the treasure chest upstairs and the memories attached to the stuff within.

His remote ended at the end of his bed, underneath many clothes and pillows –falling out of his closet when he tried to push his videogames between his socks in order to clean up a bit.

Behind some old books he never read because they're a gift from someone and not interested enough, board games and incomplete puzzles, in the small cabinet he found something that caught his attention; a photo frame. In the picture two young boys, both with a slight sunburn. The left had an inflatable ring shaped like a unicorn around his waist, a pair of glasses and a summer hat. The other wore yellow shorts, sunglasses and his pink inflatable ring was shaped like a sea turtle. Both were grinning, sand on their cheeks and hands with a clear blue sky on the background.

Alfred held the picture in his hands, looking at a reminder of his youth with a faint smile on his face. How did the picture got here, he wondered. It was one of his memories he cherished the most, because they were untouched after all those years.

Like when he first found his beloved plush duck again, he regretted locking away all this memories attached to the other person on the photo. He turned the photo frame, reading the words on the back. _"Because you're the best friend to build sandcastles with!"_ His sandcastle-buddy, how he had missed the child during the summers.

He walked towards the stairs leading to the attic, entering the atmosphere filled with memories. It looked sadder than he could remember and it was silent. Alfred walked over to the treasure chest, noticing it was open, it was surrounded with little paw prints. Poochi had claimed the attic, it must have been Matthew who challenged the dog and brought it safely back to the kitchen. Alfred hated the dog, wanted it sent on a plane to Russia; where it would freeze away. Poochi deserved it, destroying his precious comic books.

With the photo in his hand, Alfred reached in the chest filled with stuff. He found easily where he had been looking for, an old sheet. _"Superhero-man and Tullipboy"_ with two badly drawn persons on it. One with a mask on and the other with many flowers in his hands, pointing like it were swords. The masked one had a red cape, red boots and blonde hair. It was a young Alfred. He had been Superhero-man. But just like Robin and Batman, hero and helper separated. His friend was now his own superhero, or an anti-hero like Alfred now was.

**~ Flashback ~**

"Here's the hero to protect the people of the castle against the mighty sea!" Little Alfred's hands were covered with sand, just as his legs, back and sunburned cheeks. With his knees in the sand of the beach, the water splashed into the dug castle moat, destroying the seashell bridge and quickly surrounded the castle made of sand.

His hair was covered with sand and his glasses were dirty, but he was enjoying the time on the beach.

The empty red bucket ended in the sand, while Alfred tried to repair the castle. Unfortunately, the water did not protect the castle but caused it to collapse and disappear into the water. Their sandcastle was gone, taken by the water just as the country his friend lived in.

"It doesn't matter Alfred, we make a new one! I'll get more sand!" His spiked haired friend said, picking up the bucket again and ran towards dryer sand.

"We can make another one, I've got new sand!" Alfred glanced up to his friend, half blinded by the summer sunshine. He left his glasses on their towels, so he didn't see much but he saw the enthusiastic smile on his friend face and the red bucket in his hands above his head.

We will defend the castle with a dam. Just like the brave men of my country did!" His smile made Alfred smile, that was what friends do.

They started over again, near the sea. This time without the castle moat. But with something similar to the large dam they visited on their trip yesterday. To keep their castle safe from the seawater. The castle with a red flag on it.

The boys rested on their beach towels, on their back with faces towards the sky. Trying to guess the shapes of the clouds drifting away in the blue summer sky.

"A bunny! It's a bunny, next to a monkey and a boat!" His little finger pointed towards the sky, following a cloud. "And that's a dragon. This to the cloud that looks like Italy! Like the boot-shaped country." Two fingers were following the clouds in the sky. The sun was shining, giving both the boys a hard time to stare at the sky. They shielded their face slightly with their other hands. It was a lovely day, almost perfect.

"You know; you're my summer friend! And together we make pretty awesome sandcastles, let's do this again tomorrow. Or we can go catch frogs again? Maybe we can go jelly fish hunting now!" Enthusiastic as always, Alfred grabbed his friend's wrist and towards they ran towards the sea, to spot some jellyfish that might needed help from the two young heroes on a hot summer day.

**~ End Flashback~ **

He got stung by a jellyfish that day. Twice. His hand had swollen and his foot. Result; a trip to the hospital. His friend got a bad sunburn and Alfred couldn't play soccer for a week, or swim. Alfred grinned about the memory; he could remember the conversation they had in the doctor's office. They both had received candy because they behaved during their visit. Bubblegum and a chocolate bar.

The conversation was about heroes, about being one, since they saved at least one creature, a fish. Alfred remembered he said he was the hero, because he found the fish. But his friend said he brought the bucket and saved the fish, bringing him to sea. Therefore was he the real hero. But Alfred won the conversation.

They came up with their nicknames; Superhero-man and Tullipboy, rescuers of fish and other sea creatures. Along with the costumes and plans for Halloween, they played 'Superheroes' for day. Sometimes joined by Matthew, but often just the two of them played on the attic.

It was strange; he never missed his friend until now. When he found the treasure chest again, he began to miss the memories. But he remembered why he missed those memories. Why he locked them away, what they meant to him. Those memories were bad and they were his own.

x~

In the middle of the night, lying awake for hours in his bed asking himself what was the cause of this insomnia, Alfred stared towards the ceiling. The shape of the shadows reminded him of the game they played in his memory. The shadows danced and moved around, forming a familiar shape. Knowing what a hero does in this situation, he rolled on his stomach and looked under his bed, rescuing the stuffed Alfred from being turned into dust by the dust piles under his bed.

He looked into the original eye and saw his reflection. He hugged the duck, inhaling its smell. Tulips mixed with lavender and a small taste of dust-scent.

After that familiar smell and feelings he secretly missed, he drew something on the window with a marker. With the words _"Superhero-man has returned. I'm a hero again"_ shining in the moonlight, he drifted off in a sleep filled with memories from his friend. And this time, only the happy ones came to visit him in the night.

Sometimes, things needed to be forgiven because they could be.


	4. Chapter 4

"_Bust a Move!"_

**Disclaimer: **I do own nothing, not even the picture book mentioned below. And the plot twist. Oh, the plot twist!

**Summary: **They forgot about a close friend, but got reminded thanks to his 'treasures'. Which they cherish in their heart. Asking themselves, how could they forget him?

X I almost gave up on this story, since I think my writing has changed dramatically. But then I remembered, that the characters in my story don't give up either. Except my Naruto Oc, but she's dead so that doesn't count.

**Treasure****s from an old Friend**

Brightened Words

**~Flashback~**

It had rained for days, the sky had been grey enough to wonder about it's true sky blue colour. If it would ever return. The forest floor was wet, mud stuck op to his jacket and face. His hair wet from rain and mud, smeared across his face. His glasses wet and moist, the jeans his mother bought him this morning were already ripped and stains of grass, mud and blood ruined the dark blue fabric.

He laid on the ground, his hair stuck to his cheeks and the eyes behind his glasses firmly shut. He was in pain, the wound on his leg stung from the dirt and the rain. Close to crying, he sniffed. Gasping for breath, rage rushed through his veins as he recalled all that had happened. He was in a fight. With a good friend. The reason had slipped his mind when the first fist had hit him. After the fifth kick he gave up defending himself, knowing what he had done was worth this much pain.

"I thought we were friends!" A shadow stretched over his face. The voice was angry but Alfred kept his eyes close. Afraid for another hit. "Look at me Alfred!" the person next to Alfred shouted and weakly the blonde opened his eyes to see his friend crying.

Rain was mixed with the tears on his friend's face, his spiky hair had fallen down due to the heavy rain and the cut on his cheek was blood coloured red.

Lost in disbelieve, he had never seen his friend crying, Alfred didn't move. Unable to, because of the pain in his arms and legs, because of the pain for making the strongest person he knew besides his dad shed tears over something unworthy as he.

"I thought we were friends. I-I.." His friend didn't spoke further, turning his head to not show the many tears hanging behind his eyes. He bit his lip, exposing the fresh cut and turned on his heels. Leaving the shock to overcome Alfred as the distance between them grew and his blue eyes only saw the person moving away. He had lost his friend. For good.

**~End Flashback~**

Sitting on his bed, thinking about the only memory troubling him after days full forgiveness, Alfred wiped a tear from his eyes. Alfred J., the plush duckling, lay across his bed, waiting for his owner.

Returned to the library, lost in the written story, Matthew's presence and lavender scent filled up the room. He always found shelter between the books when Alfred was in a mood like this; he had refused to tell his younger brother what was bothering him and the only few words he called his own in their brief conversation, left his lips in a shout.

Matthew turned the page between his fingers, his eyes glancing at the colourful photo's showing magnificent flowers. It had been a gift from and old friend and his favourite book that had left the bookshelves more times than any other book Matthew owned. Being his favourite, took the book's toll. The cover was damaged, the pages were dirty and pieces were ripped. But the value it held because of a small inscription in the front, was still there and welcomed Matthew every time he opened and travelled into the memory.

**~Flashback~**

"My mother is going to freak out when she sees the mess." Little Matthew's cheeks were brown from the dirt, scattered through his hair little picks of weed. His pants were dirty, green from the grass mixed with the white silk.

His violet eyes travelled through the flowerbed. Piles of spoil, buckets half buried underneath. A lost spade crushing delicate flowers. Holes to be filled with new seeds and the lawnmower, little red was shown underneath the thick layer of green grass, abandoned in the corner of the garden near the pond. Birds resting in the big oak in the middle of the garden, enjoying the lovely weather and the precious sunlight through the clouds.

His friend next to him smiled, his light freckles and soft blush covered with soil as well. His favourite shirt, orange with a white rabbit on it, showed greenish shades on his stomach. But he didn't seem to mind.

"She told us to enjoy ourselves, didn't she? Well, I'm enjoying this!" And his hands disappeared into the soil again, creating a small hole for special flowers he had brought with him. Matthew laughed and followed his lead.

"I got you a present." His friend said, sipping his soda and glanced over to his bag next to him under the oak. They had stopped digging and relaxed in the shade. Matthew bit his candy bar, curious about the present. A blossom pink shade filled his face, when the gift – perfectly wrapped in shimmering red paper- was in front of him.

"Wauw! A picture book!" The wrappings around the present were abandoned and fell onto the ground, his tiny hands eager followed the cover and he opened the book. Filled with photo's en information about flowers, their colourful appearances greeted him. Turned a few pages, more flowers from different countries greeted him. Their names in shining gold letters, the letters not too small for him to read.

"Thank you so much! B-but I don't have a gift for you." Blushing to give a hug as a thank you and embarrassed over the fact he hadn't had a gift in return, Matthew received a ruffle through his hair. "We're friends. That's your present to me." Making the younger boy smiled, the spiky haired brunette laughed and searched the pockets of his ripped pants. Pulling out a photograph, picturing a white and orange rabbit.

"This is my rabbit. _Nijntje_. I got her for my birthday. Can she be our friend too?" The photo pressed was in Matthew's hands, his eyes glowed. The rabbit was cute, small and sincerely asleep on the photo. In his friends arms. Who smiled with glee and obvious proud.

"Yes. She's our friend too. Just like my bear."

**~End Flashback~**

A watery smile played on his lips, Matthew had forgotten about the tension between him and his brother and his heart had been filled with memories that seemed so long ago. His favourite book hadn't lost the magic of friendship stuck to the pages.

That day, his mother had been furious. But it was worth it. Their garden had been filled with colourful flowers, marked with a red pencil in his book. Tulips, roses, sunflowers, lavender and lilies. All had changed the green desert into a painting.

He sighted. Wishing that the memory held not years, but only days. He missed those moments. More since he had opened the treasure chest and allowed his friend back into his head to play with his mind and feelings.

Turning a page, Matthew felt something slip between his fingers and a photo fluttered down onto the ground near his feet. Picking the delicate photo carefully, he realized it was the most precious photo his friend owned in his youth. The one of his rabbit.

It had been his treasure, like the treasure he gave to Alfred and Matthew. A true friend who only valued friendship in return.

How he missed the boy and his friendship. The ruffles through his hair, the carefree smiles and the light freckles playing around his lips and nose. His spiky hair and his talent to always make Matthew smile. He needed him. And his friendship. And the memories. The treasure were just a way to make a new beginning.


End file.
